


I'll Jingle Your Bells

by Daryl_Alenko



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Awkward Reid, Christmas Fluff, Double Entendre, Drinking Games, F/M, Garcia and Morgan are Flirtatious, Garcia is Queen of Everything Awesome, Mischievous Hotchner, Reid is full of surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 15:18:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8061511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daryl_Alenko/pseuds/Daryl_Alenko
Summary: The BAU decide that it's time to blow off a little steam. What better way than a Christmas party held at one of Morgan's soon to be flipped homes?? Of course, wackiness ensues!





	

**Author's Note:**

> A project done for my beautiful bestie Tiffy using the prompts Christmas, Mistletoe, Party. Sadly it didn't turn out quite the way I had hoped, but I think it's a good story. (To make up for letting this story get away with me, I'm going to write a purely Morgan / Garcia fic for her!)
> 
> There is a drinking game in this that requires the characters talk about their pasts. I have taken the liberty of adding in juicy tidbits that may or may not be true. If they aren't, please don't flame me for it, because this story is supposed to be silly and fun!

* * *

"No, Garcia." Derek Morgan's trademarked groan of frustration is in full swing today. Three times, in as many hours, he has tried to stave off his overexcited friend and her near coquettish pleas for a Christmas Party .... at one of his properties. The very idea of seeing the eclectic mix of colleagues he has the privilege to consider friends in such a personal, vulnerable event such as a Christmas Party, is not the type of soul-bearing position he is really prepared for at the moment. If ever. 

But there she is. His beautiful baby girl, a rainbow of color and a whirlwind of activity. Those big, pleading eyes wide and cajoling behind her glasses. He groans for the fourth time. His hands fidget with the hem of his shirt as he tells himself .. no COMMANDS himself not to look into the emotional vortex of her steady gaze. 

"Penelope ..." He warns in mawkish tones. And yet, some part of him admits that he may as well give in. Concede the war, because she has but to continue down this path of being kissably adorable and he is going to buckle like a damn belt. 

"Come on, Sugar shack! Mama wants a Christmas Party." She throws in a soft, sentimental little sniffle that only he can hear, and he knows that he has lost. Silently, he concedes the war. Mentally, he throws up a mile-wide white flag with the word SURRENDER in pink glitter pen because she would totally like something like that.

"Alright, baby girl .. what mama wants, mama gets." He flashes his broad, eye-crinkling smile and leans forward to brush a quick, fleeting kiss across her temple before he turns away. "But you are responsible for everything, Garcia. Decorations, food, invitations, the whole nine yards. Bring the stuff by this afternoon." He beats a hasty retreat, glad that he is halfway out of her room before her high pitched squeal of happiness has the chance to leave him dizzy. 

Though, as much as he wants to pretend that this little shindig is all for -her- benefit ... the genuinely happy smile plastered to his handsome features tells a different story; even -he- wants this.

* * *

"Damn it, woman, this is -not- what I agreed to!" He is not whining. No matter what the evidence says to the contrary! But, come on. He certainly has the -right- to whine, given the fact that his once pristine property looks like Old Saint Nick's sleigh barfed up all over it!

"Penelope!" Morgan growls out, scrubbing a hand down his face in hopes of somehow clearing his vision and making this all go away. His front lawn houses all nine reindeer, posed in various states. Some are curled against each one another, others look as if they are trying to graze in the snow. And when he walks closer, Rudolph's nose actually lights up, bathing the entire scene in red. 

To the side, Santa's sleigh is overflowing with wrapped boxes, and Morgan has to inhale deep and careful to steady himself. If -this- is the outside ... deity help him, what does the inside look like!? He tries to steel himself, his gloved hands prodding each other as he takes the steps two at a time. He stops with a groan at the large wreath on the door. Not so bad .. until you realize there are dozens of pictures of the team dotting the entire thing. He fights the desire to reach up and yank down a picture of himself, pushing the door open, instead.

"Woman, when I get my hands on you ..." He continues to mutter and grumble to himself as he enters the house. And immediately stops. The front entryway looks ... almost like ice. As if it's been frosted from top to bottom, with glittering snowflakes hanging all over the place. Cinnamon apple, sugar cookies, yams, popcorn and caramel ... so many delicious scents war against each other as they fill the house.

"... I just might kiss you, baby girl." He chuckles warmly to himself. He can already feel the stress of the past year beginning to melt away. 

"What was that, Sugar Shack??" Garcia's voice echoes from somewhere deeper in the house, and Morgan can't help the bright smile that appears. He follows the sound of her voice, stepping into the kitchen. He's hit with a beautiful and terrifying sight. One of those kind of visuals that hits you somewhere in the vicinity of the heart and leaves you reeling. In the best of ways.

One oh so beautiful, talented Penelope Garcia is standing in the spacious kitchen wearing a bright Christmas apron with little bits and baubles jingling and jangling with every move. Her glasses are even wrapped in bright red and green tissue paper. The gentle crinkling of the paper adds to the beauty of the Christmas music she creates with every step.

"You look beautiful, Penelope." He drops the playful nicknames, the silliness and all of that. Instead, he goes with the heartfelt. "It smells divine in here, baby girl." He walks across to the island she stands at, reaching up to pluck at a piece of the tissue paper, grinning brightly. "Nice touch."

Garcia's smile lights up brighter than the Christmas Tree that is taking up a good hunk of the living room.

"Thank you, Derek." She shifts where she's standing, a mixing bowl in hand. Morgan moves so that he can peer into it, trying to figure out what she's making. "Hey, hands off, Mr. Man! You can have some as soon as everyone else arrives!" She bats playfully at his hand, making him grin all the sweeter as he manages to snatch up a piece of marshmallow and pretzel and shove them into his mouth.

"Really? I let you take over my place and go mad, and I can't even snatch a piece of your sweet, baby girl?" He purrs the words in a playfully suggestive manner, the Queen of the Double Entendre blushing a luminescent pink as she tries to maneuver the bowl away from him.

"OMG, even -I- think that was too far, dark chocolate." She huffs goodnaturedly, putting the bowl down and turning to look for something. "You can have a piece of my sweet after everyone has arrived."

"I -never- had you pegged for the kind that likes an audience, Penelope. Think I like this kinky side." He winks and just manages to dodge the flat end of a wooden spoon that she swats at him with.

"Oh you just better watch it, Derek Morgan, or I will bend you ov --- oh god!" She goes beet red, the wooden spoon dropping from suddenly lax fingers before her hands fly up to cover her mortified features.

"Am I early? Or ... is this some kind of performance with dinner?" Rossi is standing in the kitchen doorway, his shoulder resting against the door-jam, his arms crossed over his chest as he smirks between the two.

"Nah, Rossi. Just in time. Maybe you could help Penelope bend -- .." 

"Whoa, whoa! Stop right there, Derek. I do not swing that way. Now, if we were to bend -her- over .." Rossi yelps in surprise as the dropped wooden spoon comes flying at him. He watches it glance off the door-jam and he bursts into laughter. "It's not an Italian Christmas until the hostess throws something ... several times." He winces, bending to pick the spoon up and deliver it back to the red faced woman. "Thank you for inviting me, Penelope." 

"You are welcome, Rossi." She huffs, still embarrassed, though doing her best to hold it together.

"So, Angel of Christmas Spirit, is there anything I can help you with? Preferably in the kitchen." Garcia grins, nodding, and after a moment, she puts him to work on something, before turning to look at Morgan.

"And you are going to be a good host and carry your perky backside into the living room and greet the others as they get here." She waggles a finger at him, before shooing him out of the kitchen so that she and Rossi can get to work.

* * *

Morgan has managed to pull his gloves and scarf off, putting them onto the wooden pegs just inside the living room, followed by his trench coat. Once he had shucked the excess layers, he allowed himself to look the room over.

Tinsel, snowflake cut outs, gingerbread men ornaments, and of course the ginormous tree stuffed full of pretty wrapped packages that he has no doubt have actual presents for everyone. He feels that familiar tug in his gut. The warm ball of light and anticipation nestled deep within at the sweet domesticity of the moment. His baby girl really did go all out.

"I, uhm .. I hope I'm not late." The soft tones draws Morgan from his thoughts and he whirls around to see Reid standing awkwardly in the middle of the room, his arms stuffed with small, bright packages. "I knocked, but no one answered, so I figured you wouldn't, uhm mind .. if I came in. And .. yeah ..." Morgan smirks, letting the pretty boy wriggle and squirm for a few moments longer before he chuckles warmly.

"It's alright, Pretty Boy. You're not late. Here." He reaches out to divest Reid of some of his burden, turning to help him stack the boxes beneath the tree as best they can. "I'm glad you could come, Spence." Once they are both standing straight again, he reaches out to ruffle the younger man's short hair, grinning at the silky, tickly texture of it before he drops his hand.

"It was nice of you and Garcia to invite me." He shifts uncomfortably, reaching up after a moment to wrap his hands around the strap of his messenger bag, making Morgan groan faintly.

"Spence .." He drawls out disapprovingly before he gently snags the bag and begins to pull it off. "There's no need to wear this, kid. Here." He shuts down the soft protests as he steps up to the pegs and puts the bag up. "No hiding tonight, Spence. No losing yourself in that big ol' brain of yours. Just .. enjoy yourself, okay?" Though the last part comes out sounding like a question, he injects a bit of authority into it, making it a command. 

"O-okay." Reid manages to stumble the single word of agreement before his jaws snap shut and a single muscle in his neck quivers momentarily. "I'll try, Derek." 

"Alright. Come on, kid. Lets go bug Garcia." They both light up at the prospect of annoying their favorite Hacker.

* * *

"Come on, come on ... someone needs to make a proper toast!" Rossi grouses mirthfully as he eyes the group standing around the island in the kitchen.

Garcia is, of course, the center of attention with her festive holiday garb. Flanking her to the left, in a Christmas green sweater is Morgan. Flanking her right, in an oddly festive sweater of red, green and white stripe, Reid. JJ and Prentiss are standing off to the side, paying more attention to the goodies than those gathered. Hotch is quietly handing out drinks, humming softly to himself in a rare display of happiness. Or, maybe just faking it really, really well. 

"I vote Reid!" Garcia pipes up, waving her newly procured glass of eggnog toward her shy friend. Predictably, Reid's eyes widen like saucers, his hands gripping his own cup of eggnog tightly. Normally, he wouldn't dream of partaking of such a drink, but as everyone around him seems to echo Garcia's sentiment, he can feel nervousness pouring through him.

"I.. uhm ..uhm .. I - I ... okay." Reid stumbles and strays through his words, struggling to agree to do as his friends/coworkers have asked him to. He lifts his tumultuous, nervous gaze and catches both Garcia and Morgan smiling sweet encouragement. So, he allows that boyish smile to soften his already gentle features and he lifts the cup of eggnog awkwardly.

"Craoi follain agus gob fliuich!". Nollaig shona duit!" The string of Gaelic is melodious and succinct. His cheeks fill with heat and color, dusky rose pinks dappling pallid flesh when he realizes that all the blank faces staring back at him don't understand what he has just said.

"Come on, in English, Pretty Boy!" Morgan growls the words, reaching around to swat Reid lightly on the shoulder. 

The label of Pretty Boy causes Reid to flush further hues of pink dust, and he drops his gaze toward his feet. 

"A healthy heart and a wet mouth! Happy Christmas!" The English translation is met with little resistance ... until Garcia and Morgan both explode into happy, teasing laughter.

"Oh my, Spence ... didn't realize you were so interested in wet mouths." Garcia somehow manages to make the word wet sound completely lewd. Morgan grins, sidling up a little closer to the younger man.

"Now tell us, kid ... just -who's- mouth do you want to make sure is wet this Christmas ..?" Morgan leans down, practically purring the suggesting words into the younger man's ear, making Reid shiver momentarily. In fact, his throat feels a little dry, and he finds himself downing almost half of the eggnog in one go.

"It's n-not like that, you guys!" Reid's alabaster cheeks are painted pretty hues of petal pink and he shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot. "It's a traditional Irish Toast!" He squeaks lightly as he tries to defend himself, before knocking back the last dregs of his eggnog. 

"Now, now, don't worry, Reid. Morgan and Garcia are just having a little fun with you, that's all." Hotch croons softly to try and placate the embarrassed young man. He quietly refills the cup with nog and places it firmly back into Spence's hand. "It was a lovely toast, Spencer, and I thank you for it." Hotch beams at him, Reid managing a watery, boyish smile in return. Glad to know that he has somehow managed to correctly perform in a social situation. 

Morgan walks around Garcia, so that he can thread an arm around Spence, grinning adoringly at his friend.

"It was a really nice toast, Pretty Boy. Good job." He tilts his head to place a platonic kiss on the younger man's cheek before he moves back toward the goodies on the island and begins to fix himself a plate.

"oh! I know of ah, uhm .. a strange game we can play, that shouldn't be too tedious or anything. It's not exactly Christmas themed, but it should be fun." All eyes turn toward the one who would be voted least likely to suggest a game, less it be checkers, chess, or something equally as painfully intellectual. 

"Okay, sure. Everyone, load up some snacks and some more drinks, and we will reconvene in the living room." Rossi takes control of the situation, leading everyone into the other room to get comfortable. As one, they all gather viddles and drinks and move to mark their territory.

* * *

Not surprising, Garcia ends up in the very middle of the couch, pulled onto Derek's lap. Reid is resting to Derek's right, Rossi is settled on a chair across from Hotch who is set the same, with JJ and Prentiss sharing the opposite end of the couch.

With paper plates of snacks spread along the coffee table, everyone but Spencer has switched from eggnog to more grown up drinks. Beer, wine, bourbon and various forms of booze. Poor Spence practically clings to his pale white cup, worrying the vessel between his hands as he struggles to get his head on straight. He knows that he can do this .. that he can come out of his shell among friends.

"I, uhm .. I'm sure you guys have heard of this game. Probably played it at least a few times. I never have." He lifts his eggnog and taps it with a single long, elegant finger. "It's called Never Have I Ever .." Predictably, everyone but the older two murmur their acknowledgement of the game, Rossi and Hotch either genuinely not knowing the game .. or feigning ignorance to make Spender speak more. The younger man huffs a soft breath, wiggling uncomfortably next to Morgan. Garcia reaches down to pat his shoulder gently and he clears his throat.

"The rules are simple. We're all sitting in the loosest definition of a circle, so we'll start with me, since I had to open my big mouth and suggest this." He clears his throat a second time, powering on before anyone can interrupt him and cause him to lose his nerve. "So, we start by me declaring something I have never done. If you have not done it, either, you do nothing. But if you -have-, you take a drink." He wrinkles his nose, fidgeting once again as he tries to decide what he should start off with. In a stroke of 'genius,' he decides to go with one he's pretty sure everyone will have to drink to. He grins and raises his cup again.

"Never have I ever ... returned a Library book late." This is met with groans of annoyance, amusement, and general silliness as every person but Spence takes a sip from their cups. All eyes turn expectantly on Rossi, who cannot contain the smug little smirk forming on his handsome features.

"Never have I ever ... hacked a computer." No surprise when Garcia rolls her eyes, groans, and takes a swig of her wine. Big surprise when Spencer quietly takes a drink of his Nog.

"What? Just because I don't like technology, doesn't mean I don't know a thing or two. Besides, it was for an --"

"-- experiment. Of course it was, kid." Morgan finishes the sentence for him, snickering when Spence reaches over and actually punches him lightly in the thigh. 

Watching the exchange between the two younger men, Hotch plasters on his best, Fatherly, I'm merely tolerating this because I care for you all, smile. 

"Never have I ever ... dated a member of my team." Reid and JJ both blush vaguely as they take sips of their drinks. Yeah, it had only been one date and hadn't exactly been stellar, but still. It was a date. 

"Hang on." Hotch slips to his feet and walks around the couch, gathering Reid's near empty glass and heading into the kitchen to refill it.

"I'm regretting suggesting this." Reid mumbles, his fingers twisting and prodding against one another now that he has nothing to hold to keep them occupied. Garcia slips an arm around Reid's shoulder and leans on Morgan's lap so that her cheek touches the top of Reid's head gently.

"Aw, come on, Reid. It's fun! You're doing great. I'm really proud of you." She whispers the last bit, turning so that she can place a discreet kiss to the top of his head before she straightens up. Hotch quietly hands the glass off to Reid, settling three more filled glasses on the table before retaking his seat.

"Alright, then. My turn!" Prentiss pipes up, grinning broadly. She feels she has the best one. "Never have I ever ... been married." No surprise, Hotch, JJ, and Rossi drink .. and then nearly spit their full mouths out when Garcia takes a generous gulp of her wine. Morgan's arms tighten around her and Reid stares on with wide, confused eyes.

"It was only for, like, 12 hours, if even that long! We totally had it annulled once we both sobered up!" She squeaks the words, taking another generous swig of her wine glass. She scrambles carefully out of Morgan's lap to refill the glass. However, before she can settle next to him, she finds herself dragged gently back into his lap.

"My turn, then?" JJ questions, shifting to lay her head lightly on Prentiss' shoulder as she thinks. "Uhm .. never have I ever ... participated in street racing." She giggles as she finally manages to come up with one, and she nearly preens with happiness when it looks like no one is going .. to .... 

"Holy hell!" Garcia and Morgan echo each other in astonishment as Reid gulps over half of his glass of nog.

".. Spence?" JJ questions, mouth hanging open in surprise. Even Hotch and Rossi look genuinely intrigued.

"L-Las Vegas .. grew up there ... was about 15. They, uhm .. they made me hold the handkerchief .." He blushes bright red, squirming where he sits. he knocks back the last of his nog and nearly fumbles the glass out of his hand before he manages to get it settled on the table. 

"Wait ..." Morgan drawls out slowly. Reid doesn't have to look at his features to see the wheels turning as he begins to work it all out in his head. Reid stealthily puts a little bit of distance between himself and Morgan and Garcia. He manages to snag one of the extra glasses of nog, though he also manages to refrain from drinking it. 

"Spencer .. they make the pretty ones hold those, don't they?" Garcia beats Morgan to the punch, so to speak, asking in wide eyed amazement.

In answer, Reid goes even redder in the face and mumbles something to seconds before he is inhaling his drink in one long, continuous, desperate drink.

"What was that, Spence? I don't think we caught that .." As if things were not strange enough, Hotch is the one kindly goading Reid into giving an audible answer. So, finally, Spencer sits up straight, glances across the distance between him and his two closest friends. 

"Morgan wasn't the first one to call me Pretty Boy." He blurts out between clenched jaws as he stares moodily down into his drink. In the very next moment, the drink is nearly dropped when Garcia fumbles it out of his hands, back onto the table. Only to replace it .. with herself. She tumbles across his lap, trying to hug him for all that she's worth, which results in him giving a rather undignified, surprised screech. He quickly wriggles and shifts so that she is sitting between him and Morgan, though she still has her arms wrapped around him.

"And you are! Suuuuch a pretty boy, Spence!!" Garcia croons happily, practically babbling in her need to make it better. Reid manages to extricate himself from her arms, steadily looking everywhere but at any of his co-workers.

"Erm, th-thanks .. Penelope .." he stumbles the words out, managing to snag up his next cup of Eggnog. Only now, does he have time to stop and wonder why he's feeling kinda lightheaded and a little fuzzy around the edges of his brain. 

"My turn, then." Morgan grabs up his glass, barely managing not to frown as he tries to think of one that might give the kid a break. He chuckles warmly, reaching out to thread his arm around Garcia's waist. "Never have I ever had a kid."Of course, Hotch and JJ both drink, leaving Spencer alone for the moment.

"Hmm .. Never have I ever ..." Garcia flounders for a moment, struggling to try and think of one .. and she laughs. "Never have I ever been to Hawaii .." With laughter, the rounds continue for nearly half an hour, every sticking to simple, safe topics after the embarrassment that Spencer had faced. 

But in the end, curiosity had proven too much for one member of the get together, and when Hotch's turn came some forty-five minutes later, he figured that enough timed had passed.

"Alright ... hmm .. let me think ..." He draws the moment out, pretending to study each person there, though he is studying Reid, Morgan, and Garcia a little closer. The Profiler in him is working over time, despite the general rule that the team does not profile each other. "Never have I ever ..." He draws the moment out, glancing down at the glass of bourbon that has aided in spreading a nice sense of warmth through him. "... made out with someone of the same sex." 

There is no need for a drumroll, no need for suspense, because all eyes turn to a single individual with expectation; Garcia. How could their resident Wonder Woman, their Queen of Quirky, Diva of Divine Open Mind, -not- have done such a thing at least once? So, no surprise when she chugs down a full glass of wine without surfacing for a single breath until it's empty.

However, even -she- gapes in surprise when Reid knocks back his Nog and Morgan barrels through his bourbon. With barely audible whispers about being called pretty boy, dropping handkerchiefs, it -wasn't- an experiment, and such mutterings, Reid grabs his two empty glasses and beats a hasty retreat toward the kitchen. 

Morgan glances over at Garcia, practically able to feel the questions bouncing off his best friend. 

"I'll .. tell you later." He finally manages to whisper, for her ears only. Meanwhile, he glances pointedly at her, and then jerks his head in the direction of the kitchen. She was likely the only one that would get through to Reid at the moment. The only one that would be able to draw him out of the labyrinth he calls a brain.

"I'll be right back! Everyone commence Christmas Cookie feasting!" she orders as she wiggles her way off the couch and heads toward the kitchen.

* * *

Spencer is leaning his hip against the island, his eyes heavily lidded as the alcohol slowly rolls through his system. It's only now, that he's feeling tipsy and well on his way to being really drunk, that he realizes someone had spiked his Nog. Hotch, of course, being the obvious culprit, since each glass had been handled by him.

"Stupid Boss person." Reid whines as he tries to work the cup under the water in the sink and misses by a good bit. He scowls, his eyes narrowing until he can barely see beyond the webbing of his lashes and he lunges the cup at the water.

This time, he succeeds. He manages to get the cup under the water to rinse it off .. and promptly sprays half a gallon of water all over himself when the water hits the inner curve and sends it radiating outward. He splutters and splurts as the water soaks his face and finally manages to snap the water off.

"Oh, poor Reid." Garcia giggles from the kitchen doorway, her hands covering her mouth but doing littler to stifle the laughter. She breezes into the room, grabbing a handful of paper towels as she heads for her friend. "You look like a drowned cat, baby boy." She points out, giggling at the unhappy little scowl she gives him. "A pretty, adorable drowned cat." She offers placatingly as she begins to carefully sop water off his scarlet kissed features.

"The perfect end to this day." His words are spoken so soft, she probably wouldn't have heard them if she wasn't standing right in front of him. After a moment, his eyes flutter closed, and his shoulders sag as he lets her help him. 

"Come on, Spence. You know we all only tease you because we love you. This is supposed to be a happy, fun party!" She turns and bins the towels before turning back toward him, head tilted at an angle to study his pinked features. "What's going on, Spence? Talk to me." She switches from her Queen of All Talents to her Bestie voice, and Spence finds himself lifting a shoulder in a faint shrug.

"Just not good at these kinds of things, Garcia. I didn't want to come. Should've stayed home and read." His tone as turned forlorn, and Garcia sighs inwardly. One day, she will break through this wall of his! 

"You listen here, Spencer Reid, and you listen real good!" Garcia's hands migrate to her hips, her eyes narrowed at him in her best You Will Listen to the Diva of Knowledge! look. "You belong -right here-, with your team and friends, celebrating the holiday! Not with your finger in some book or out playing chess, or whatever else you may have been doing tonight. It's about time you climb out of that big brain of yours, Spence, and join the rest of us."

Reid's eyes widen and he barely manages a glimpse of Garcia from beneath his tawny lashes. He knows he should say something about how he's just fine in his own little world, thank you very much, but he really can't. Instead, he blurts the first thing that comes to mind.

"You sound like Derek." He supplies weakly, and Garcia actually lights up.

"I shall take that as a compliment, baby boy." She adds a playful Morgan-esque drawl onto the words baby boy, making Reid blush even more. Maybe she's right. Maybe he really does need to try and get a little further out of his comfort zone. Which is the only reason he finds himself bold enough for this next move.

"Penelope .." His voice breaks on the second half of her name and he quickly clears his throat to make up for it. He stands straight, squares his shoulders back and does his best to channel .. well, to try and channel Morgan, maybe? His partner/friend is the only one he can really conjure up for comparison, since he doesn't know that much about Rossi or Hotch on a personal level.

Right then. Channel Morgan and you can do this, Reid.

He reaches up, his hand surprisingly steady given the fact that he's quaking on the inside. Gently, his slender, elegant fingers curl against the curve of Garcia's cheek, tilting her head back enough that she can spy the piece of mistletoe hanging over them. When her eyes widen in surprise, he gently tilts her head back down. His other hand lifts, fingers teasing along the nape of her neck as he steadies her.

She has time to pull in a single, sultry breath before his lips are upon hers. She had never really thought about kissing Reid, at least, not in any significant way beyond an exaggerated smack on the lips to be playful. If she -had- envisioned kissing Reid .. it wouldn't have been like this.

His lips are soft, made almost silken by the eggnog he had consumed in abundance. There's a sweet, spiced flavor to his mouth and she nearly melts as his lips cover hers so perfectly. They seem to slot together in perfect, pillowy softness and she can easily swear that he does not just kiss her .. he tastes her. His tongue flicks across her bottom lip, mapping the silky mound for a moment before he pulls back. 

He draws in a quivered breath, his hands falling from her face and head so that he can take a step back. He straightens his shirt carefully, flashing a bit of an embarrassed smile.

"Merry Christmas, Penelope." He murmurs before he turns and heads back into the living room. Maybe there's something to be said for stepping out of his comfort zone after all. He smiles sweetly to himself as he settles back on the couch, having missed the fact that Penelope is still standing in the kitchen. Exact same spot. Lips pursed as if still being kissed. Her cheeks erupt in a bright pink and it's her turn to clear her throat. 

"Every thing okay, Spence?" Morgan quirks a brow, and Reid just grins.

"Oh yeah." He drawls out in a surprisingly confident voice as he leans back on the couch. He picks up one of the cups of eggnog, waiting for Garcia. When she finally walks back out, into the living room, she has a fresh bottle of wine in hand. She pours herself a glass and smiles shyly at Reid as she settles between him and Morgan.

* * *

One hour and many drinks later, everyone is settled through out the living room, laughing and having a good time. Stories exchanged between co-workers and friends give way to the creation of new memories. Opening presents devolves into childish games of throwing wrapping paper, popping bubble wrap, and Reid even produces a few cans of silly string. He's currently chasing Morgan around the room, painting the man in bright pink silly string while trying to dodge blue string himself.

Garcia is currently standing apart from the festivities, grinning so wide it almost hurts. This is family. This is happiness. She has felt every bit the orphan since her parents died, but this eclectic group of wacky baggage is her family .... and she couldn't be happier.

"Well, Penelope .. you look every bit the Cat that got the cream-covered canary." Rossi slides up to her side, grinning almost lazily. He is warm, content, and enjoying the moment. Things he hasn't felt in so very long, it seems. He reaches out, laying a hand gently on her shoulder and squeezing gently.

"It's been a nice evening." She turns to look at him with warm, content eyes and he leans over to press a chaste kiss to her temple.

"That it has, Miss Garcia .. that it has. Merry Christmas, Penelope." He lets his hand fall to his side, standing shoulder to shoulder with her as they watch their family interact. "I gotta say ... nice touch on Reid's Eggnog, my dear. Risky and surprising .. but nice touch." She turns her round eyes toward him, her bottom lip jutting out just slightly.

"Now hang on one pretty little minute, mister! I didn't do anything to Reid's nog. I thought ... well, to be honest, I thought you did." She blushes faintly, trying not to frown. They exchange surprised, uneasy looks, both immediately scanning the others gathered. Looking for any clue as to who had done the deed.

Hotch lifts his glass of bourbon in a salute, a private, challenging little smile on his handsome features. Garcia lets out a befuddled little laugh.

"Oh, wow. I .. I cannot even -comprehend- .. really!?" She bursts into happy peals of laughter, leaning into Rossi to try and keep herself from falling in an undignified heap upon the floor.

Rossi finds himself shaking with uncontrolled laughter as well, managing to snake an arm around Garcia so that they can keep each other up. As they bubble over with amusement, Morgan manages to catch Reid, spraying the younger man's hair full of blue silly string before he hears the other two. He sort of zeroes in on the laughter, a brow quirked as he heads over to Rossi and Garcia.

"Well well, looks like the party is over here now." He drawls out sweetly, a brow quirked as he looks between where the two are cradling each other. Rossi straightens up slowly, smirking lightheartedly as he takes a step away from Garcia.

"Don't mind me, Derek. I was just congratulating our hostess on a job well done. If you'll excuse me .. I think I need to have a word with Aaron." Garcia snorts, her hand flying up to cover her mouth as she watches Rossi head off to confront their boss on what she is mentally dubbing 'The Reid Incident.' 

".. what was all that about?" Morgan's words are slightly petulant, Garcia giggling as she reaches out to carefully pull pink string off the gorgeous, pouting man.

"Nothing. Rossi and I were just discussing the party." She balls the silly string up and turns to toss it into the trash, yelping and giggling happily when Morgan's arms wrap around her from behind in a cozy hug.

"Uh-huh .. is that all that was going on?"

"Yeah, that's all." She blinks in surprise, pulling forward enough that she can glance over her shoulder at him. "Oh my god .. are you jealous, sugar shack??" She eeps softly when his arms tighten around her, nearly lifting her off the ground as he pulls her close to him again.

"And what if I am, baby girl?" He grumbles against the shell of her ear, causing a delicious shiver to dance down her spine as she presses back into him. "First Reid kisses you, and now Rossi is practically holding you up. Could make a saint jealous, Penelope." He exhales on her name, hot breath caressing across her ear, down, along her neck. She shivers again, before pulling out of his arms. Before he can protest, she has wrapped a hand around his arm and begun to tug him toward the kitchen.

* * *

Once into the kitchen, Garcia lets go and moves toward the island to begin cleaning up.

"What on Earth would you have to be jealous about, Morgan? I'm not the kind of person anyone gets jealous over." She giggles suddenly, eyes sparking with playful mischief. "Unless, of course, you're jealous that I got to kiss Reid." The words are teasing, of course, as she moves to put the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. When she turns around, she yelps in surprise. Because Morgan is right there. Almost pressed against her, though there's a minute distance between them still.

"Well, it did look as if he were doing a damn good, thorough job." He murmurs huskily. Slowly, he slides one hand up, onto the counter to her left. Then the other to her right, until she's boxed in by his arms. His heat. "Looked as if you were enjoying it, too. Hell, I think you may have even stopped breathing, Penelope." He chuckles as he allows his chocolate hued gaze to slowly lower, until he's watching her bright red lips. 

"I-I .. uhm .. he was ... it was .. nice ..." She's practically panting for breath as she watches his lips curve into a sultry, alluring smile. Her heart skips a beat and she sucks in a breath, trying to calm the beating of her heart. "D-Derek ..?" She whispers his name imploringly, watching as he inches closer. Until she can feel the hard shelf of his body nestled so perfectly against her own.

Carefully, his hands slide across the counter top until he can grasp her at the hips. He tugs her forward with no words, no pretense. 

Their mouths collide, melding together in a deep, heated kiss. Morgan does not fight for dominance, he declares it as his tongue slips past her pillowy lips. Their tongues thrust and counter, twisting and throbbing against each other for a single moment before he pulls back. Leaving her breathless and quivering.

"Merry Christmas, Penelope." He smirks warmly at her before he about faces and walks out of the kitchen as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn't just tasted her very essence with that beautiful mouth of his. She exhales sharply, her legs shaky, her hands flying behind her to grip the counter top to keep herself standing.

"... merry Christmas indeed." She giggles giddily before she straightens herself up and heads back into the party. 

She's glad that her friends had agreed to come. Rather than the usual maudlin reflection, this Christmas has proven a treat.

* * *

Fin.

* * *


End file.
